


Tumblr Prompts: The Marvel Drabbles, Droubbles, and Trabbles

by beetle



Category: Deadpool (2016), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Afterlife, Character Death, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 15:48:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8584327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beetle/pseuds/beetle
Summary: The title says it all. Feel free to prompt me from this Tumblr post of prompts, either on Tumblr, or in comments here :-)First trabble's prompt: "Wade and Weasel - Zip Me."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Four_Nostril](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Four_Nostril/gifts), [Pyroperception](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyroperception/gifts), [Vixen13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixen13/gifts).



> Please note the fandoms I write in currently or the fandoms I mention reading or have bookmarked, and prompt accordingly. Outside of those fandoms, I can't promise anything worth reading. And I DO NOT write anime. At all. Whatsoever. (Okay, except for that one _Howl's Moving Castle_ WIP. But that was the exception that proves the rule. No anime!)

_Please . . . amigo . . . I’m beggin’ ya:_ don’t do this _._

 

Deadpool doesn’t seem to hear that plea. Doesn’t stop his shaking, gloved fingers from sliding the zipper up. Though they suddenly stop about half-way.

 

Maybe he heard, after all? If anyone _would_. . . .

 

_Wade? Buddy? Can you hear—_

 

But a strange, choked sound escapes him: a bitten-back sob. A red-gloved hand settles on his shoulder, tentative, but tender. At its touch, _Deadpool’s_ hand falls away from the zipper dejectedly.

 

“I . . . I can’t, Spidey. I just . . . I just _can’t_!”

 

“I understand, DP,” Spider-Man murmurs, his firm tenor echoing throughout the silent morgue. “You go on. I’ll . . . I’ll handle this from here.”

 

Deadpool nods once and Spidey places his hand on the body bag with a sigh. Then Deadpool turns with another choked-off sob, and stalks toward the swinging double doors, which open and shut, open and shut, with repeated, creaking bangs. Spider-Man stares after Deadpool till the doors finally stop swinging, then turns to the slab with its body bag and bagged-body.

 

He sighs again, shaking his head.

 

“Rest in peace, Jack Hammer,” he murmurs, sketching a graceful cross before gently, reverently closing my eyes. Dim, dark-brown murk takes the place of sight for a minute.

 

Then Spidey tugs on the zipper. Then _again_ , with spidey-strength, when it doesn’t cooperate at first. In moments that nonetheless last _for-fucking-ever_ , even that dim, brown light is gone. I’m shut up tight in everlasting _darkness_ and evanescent chill. Trapped in a disanimate corpse that perceives, but won’t ever _move_ again.

 

I’m alone—scared and sad in a distant, cold way—left wondering:

 

 _What happens, next? This isn’t Heaven . . . is this_ Hell _? Or just_ my _eternity?_

 

The only reply is those distant double doors banging shut when Spidey makes his exit, and then—

 

—my eternity starts _for real_.


End file.
